In the Eyes of the Phoenix
by StoneSabre
Summary: A one-shot series set in various AU's, centering around Zhao Yun and Zhang Liao.
1. Heir

**Prompt: After the death of Zhao Yun's father, the king, Zhang Liao spearheads the prince's coronation.**

* * *

"I want to thank you for accompanying me all this way, general."

Zhang Liao, trailed lightly by Zhao Yun next to him, stopped in front of the door when the young man spoke.

"You need not thank me. I'm merely fulfilling the duty to my kingdom by ensuring the safety of the royal bloodline." Zhang Liao stated in his typical stoic fashion.

"Right," Zhao Yun replied to his characteristically honest statement. "You'll be watching me out there right?"

"Of course, your highness," The general reassured.

"Good" Zhao Yun breathed, the apprehension weighing down on him loosening only slightly, "I'd be too nervous about this coronation if you weren't."

"Why do you say that?" Zhang Liao's response was delayed.

"I'm not really sure," Zhao Yun rubbed his neck in contemplation, "I guess it's just...well, as crown prince, I've been living under my father's shadow for most of my life."

The faintest showing of sympathy befell the general's face at the mention of the King. It hadn't been long since his majesty fell sick with a deathly illness and passed away in the night. Zhang Liao was sure that the prince was still saddened by it, and he wondered how he'd been coping now that the burden of the kingdom was being passed onto him.

"But my father is no longer here, and now I must become my own man...like you did. You're really the only one I can look to now."

Though the general and the prince were of a different status, Zhao Yun knew Zhang Liao's past. He knew about his history with his father...or lack thereof. In truth, he lacked a real family to call his own. Apparently he'd been disowned by his father - he once overheard him telling this to the late king, but he never found out the reason why it happened - and had been forced to fend for himself at a very young age, which made him perfect as a military recruit. He became a warrior in the king's royal armed forces, and by the age of 21 he'd risen to the rank of general. Zhao Yun had made him his acquaintance since he first appeared in the castle grounds, and since then had watched him grow into the highly respected general that he is now.

Zhang Liao was a mere three years older than Zhao Yun, but it never seemed that way to the prince. As a warrior and a leader, the general had grown and experienced more than a pampered noble ever would. Truthfully, Zhao Yun saw him as someone he could look to for guidance, but he knew him well enough to be comfortable around him. Because of that, Zhao Yun looked up to him like he would an older brother.

"I can't see why I'd be much help. Unlike your father, I'm no king." Zhang Liao said modestly.

"No...I guess not," Zhao Yun muttered, 'you're so much more than that,' he wanted to add.

Zhao Yun stepped closer to him, patting him on the shoulder. "Don't think about it too much. I'm just glad you're here is all," he admitted before stepping back, maintaining his youthful regalia with his distance.

"If it's all the same then, no matter what it is I provide it's an honor to be of service." Zhang Liao stated in a humble manner, giving a slight bow. "Shall we go now, young master?"

"O...of course, general." Zhao Yun stuttered, suddenly very self-conscious and nervous about entering the ceremony.

Zhang Liao approached the door, but turned back when he noticed the prince had not moved. "Are you coming, your highness?"

"I will. Just...give me minute."

The general met him with a concerned frown.

"I'm fine, go ahead." Zhao Yun insisted.

The general's stared at him as if he wanted to say something, but his face softened before he turned back to the door, opening it and disappearing behind its bright wooden frame.

Zhao Yun rubbed the back of his neck, curling up his sweaty fingers in his solitude. Predictably, he was anxious about becoming king, but not about living up to his father's name. His father's love for him was purely unconditional, and therefore platonic. Wherever his father was in spirit, he knew he would always be proud of him.

His mind was on general Zhang Liao. On the surface, they were merely friends by association with the late king, but being honest with himself, Zhao Yun always admired him. His fear was being a king undeserving of Zhang Liao's loyalty. He wanted the general to show him the same respect that he did his father. He wanted to be seen as a leader in his eyes and not just a political figure that needed protection.

Maybe then, Zhang Liao would find the same admiration in him that he did the general.

* * *

The prince bowed his head, closing his eyes as the royal crest was placed upon his forehead. He breathed in a sigh of anxiousness, feeling it's golden frame against his skin. The crown that endowed his father was handed down to him and would be destined to stay with him until death.

He opened his eyes, composing himself regally with every movement as he stood up straight. His royal blue gaze was met with the general's iron grey eyes as he stared back at him. Zhao Yun caught the approval behind his stoic glare. Noticing this sign of encouragement, Zhao Yun gestured his respect to Zhang Liao, finding motivation in the general's blessing.

Zhang Liao turned away from him, nodding to the priest at his side, before taking his place in the center of the line of soldiers at the top of the stairs. The priest took his place before Zhao Yun, clearing his throat to signal he was about to begin the ritual. Catching the gesture, Zhao Yun turned around as the priest began chanting a ceremonial prayer, facing the large crowd of people who had gathered in the room to witness the crowning of their new king. Their faces were much clearer in his vision now than when he first walked in. In line with his father, the people of his kingdom signaled their blessing to him. Upon the placing of his crown, he also received the blessing of general, the man he respected more than anyone else. His only mission was to return the favor by being a king that ruled in the people's interest. Nothing else mattered.

"May heaven's light guide you, King Zhao Yun!" Zhao Yun brought back out of his thoughts as the priest ended his speech.

The voices of the soldiers aligned behind them immediately followed. "LET THE GODS' MIGHT BE WITH YOU, KING ZHAO YUN!" The soldiers roared ceremoniously in perfect sync, their chants trailed by the people's enthusiastic applause.

Above the soldiers' glorious chanting, the new king could hear the general's voice the loudest, and it made his heart soar.

* * *

**Author's Note: The one-shot that you just read is the first of a series of drabbles that I'm planning. Each one is a separate story set in a different AU, although some will be continuations of pervious entries. For anyone who may be reading this, you're welcome to put in a request for a prompt, but keep in mind I'm planning on keeping this story in the K-T range for the time being (however, if you would like something a little more rated M, I could make a separate series or add it to my "The Dragon and the Demon" one-shot series). I can't promise that I'll fulfill every request, but I'm open to ideas.**

**Anyway, I'd like to hear your thoughts about this in a review. Did you like it? Did you not like it? Do you like or dislike the idea of various AU stories? Do you like or dislike the idea of Zhao YunXZhang Liao? Do you want me to stop asking so many questions and just write the next chapter already?**


	2. Heir II

**Prompt: Following the coronation, Zhao Yun is apprehensive about taking on the responsibilities of a king, but Zhang Liao is there to offer a shoulder to stand on.**

* * *

After the coronation, a large banquet was held at the castle in celebration for the new king. It seemed the entire kingdom had come to see the newly crowned leader in all of his splendor. Predictably, Zhao Yun was apprehensive about being confronted by so many people he had never seen before, but as king, he was not one to turn down his people. He had to be there so the people could know the face of their king. His father told him that for a king to be trusted, he had to be present in the eyes of the public.

He had to admit the banquet was a nice experience. Artists were playing authentic music, people were dancing, the food was served with the utmost quality, and wine made from the ripest of grapes was supplied enough to satisfy the gods. Alas after several hours, the king was eager find at least a moment of solitude amidst the celebration.

He took a bottle of wine and a bowl with him as he made for the nearest exit secretively. The quiet air that settled over him relaxed him slightly as he stepped onto a balcony beneath the black-framed starlight. Now that he was alone, he had some time for himself to think. Setting the wine dishes on the balcony railing, he realized just how apprehensive he felt about the coming days. Tonight was the only night left for celebration. Tomorrow was his first full day of taking on the duties of the most powerful man in the kingdom. He couldn't be sure if he was ready for that responsibility, or if he would ever be ready.

"I thought I might find you here."

Zhao Yun was startled out of his thoughts when he heard the stern voice behind him. He turned to see the general walking up next to him.

"My apologies, your majesty. I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's okay. I probably shouldn't be out here, away from everyone."

"I remember you always preferred to be left alone." Zhang Liao rested his arms on the balcony railing.

Though the general's words rang true, Zhang Liao was the one person Zhao Yun felt was rather pleasant to be around. "You really surprised me at the coronation today," Zhao Yun admitted, leaning against the railing as he faced the general.

"You weren't expecting me to be the one to crown you?" The general deduced.

"How come you never told me?"

"You're father's will was for me to be the one to pass the crown to you. He wanted it to be a surprise."

"Why the surprise?" Zhao Yun asked, suspicious.

Zhang Liao looked away in contemplation. "Actually, your father only insisted that I be the one to crown you, and after everything he's done, it was the least I could do to repay him. I was the one who suggested not to tell you. I just thought it'd be a nice touch." The general chuckled.

Zhao Yun grinned listening to Zhang Liao's explanation. He always knew that his father's relationship with the general ran just somewhat deeper than simply that of the king and one of his high ranking disciples. It gave Zhao Yun hope that he could form the same kind of bond with the general that his father did.

Zhao Yun's smile faded into a concerned expression. His father insisted Zhang Liao above all else to be the one to crown him. There were many servants at hand to take up the duty, but it ultimately fell into the hands of the general.

"Why did you agree to it?" The young king asked with the utmost interest.

The general's metallic eyes suddenly seemed to find interest in the stars shimmering overhead. He took in a breath that almost seemed solemn in how strained it was. He then turned to back to Zhao Yun.

"Your father entrusted me with the responsibility of looking after the new king. He told me I was the one who yielded the respect and bravery to steer you on the right course. Your majesty...if you would allow me this honor..."

The young king's eyes widened with confusion when the general got down on his knees. Even in his position of subordination, he still seemed to carry an aura of confidence, strength, and formality.

"It's true that I am no king, and for that, I cannot know the extent of my usefulness on your journey as the leader of this kingdom, but...it is of the highest honor to look up to the royal family that has given me so much and be able to return the favor. From this day forth...King Zhao Yun, I pledge to give you my undying loyalty. I am honored to call you my lord."

The joy he felt seeing the general promise him his loyalty was beyond anything words could describe, and yet it felt hollow somehow. There was so much that he wanted to say to the general, but without being the king that deserved to have Zhang Liao wield his blade in his service, it would all be for naught. Even being ensured Zhang Liao's trust, Zhao Yun knew it was still his responsibility to earn it in time.

"Your words flatter me general, but the honor is all mine."

The general looked up to see the king's humble smile. Zhao Yun knelt down so that he could meet Zhang Liao's gaze on his level.

"Father once said that a king is no king without his people, and I have never believed those words as much as I do now," he confessed as he lead Zhang Liao to stand back up with him. "I'll accept your pledge of loyalty to me only if you'll accept my promise to be a king worthy of your service."

In response to his new lord's request, the general nodded assuringly. "Of course, my lord"

That was the all the answer Zhao Yun needed.

"Then it is settled."

The young king grabbed the bottle from the railing before pouring wine into the bowl.

"Tonight...we drink to this new oath," he offered, holding the bowl out to the general.

"And to our kingdom," Zhang Liao added, accepting the bowl with gracious hands.

For the first time, the young king looked towards the future without fear.


	3. Fugitive

**Prompt: After being wrongly accused of a crime, Zhang Liao runs away and seeks refuge in Zhao Yun's home.**

* * *

Zhao Yun shuddered, staring at the a lit fireplace as the torrent of rain outside started to intensify. The rain began to fall during midday and went on past nightfall, and it hadn't stopped since. He should have went out to the farm earlier that day to harvest the crops, but now he was forced to wait until dawn and just pray to heaven that at least some of the food would survive the flood. Damn him and his laziness!

He could have tried to power through the rain and plow the fields out then, but he didn't want to risk getting sick and have something happen to him. He was the only person left who could take care of the farm now that his father was no longer around.

Before he could brood over his thoughts too deeply, an aggressive banging on the door startled him back to reality.

_Damn! Who could be visiting this late at night in the pouring rain!?_ Zhao Yun thought to himself. The disgruntled farmer stood up, stretching his limbs out with an exasperated groan. Another round of banging rang through the room.

"Hang on, I'm coming!" He called out as he went to the door. He pulled the ragged frame back, revealing the face of his visitor.

He probably should have expected the soaking wet person, but he wasn't expecting the blood.

"I need shelter," the bloodied man breathed exhaustedly.

Zhao Yun stared at him, fearful, before starting to back away.

"I don't think you should be..."

"I need to hide, damn it! They're after me!" The man yelled as he grabbed Zhao Yun by the collar.

"Who's after you?" Zhao Yun gasped, starting to panic. He shrinked back in the stranger's clutches as his face started to scowl up in deeper anger, his strained snarls splashing harshly against him in rapid bursts. The way his half-rain-half-blood-soaked hair fell over his brow as his metallic grey eyes contorted in fear and rage gave him a frighteningly feral and murderous appearance, which looked jarring against his abnormally angled, but well-kept mustache. This man had to have been through hell. Zhao Yun didn't want to get involved in whatever was going on, but a part of him couldn't help but feel sorry for the stranger.

"Okay, okay, I'll let you in!" Zhao Yun conceded, "just put me down."

The stranger allowed Zhao Yun out of his grasp before allowing Zhao Yun to lead him to a chair by the fire place.

"Sit here. If you're going to stay here, you have to do everything I tell you." Zhao Yun asserted. "Is any of this your blood."

"No...at least not most of it." The man answered as he sat down. Zhao Yun stiffened at his response.

"Alright. I'm going to get a towel to wipe off this blood. Stay right here and don't move."

The stranger growled in irritation at his less than agreeable tone as Zhao Yun ran to another room, frantic to get this situation under control. This man whom he had never met had shown up at his house covered in blood that apparently wasn't even his. For all he knew, he could have been sheltering a murderer or a mercenary, but he'd be damned if he didn't at least find out exactly what had brought the mysterious man here. Otherwise, who knows what could happen next.

Zhao Yun came back with the towels thrown over his shoulder. "I need you to take your clothes off. Give them to me, and I'll clean them."

The other man glared at him fiercely.

"...or else you can go wash off the blood out in the rain." Zhao Yun added at the stranger's defiance.

The man groaned angrily as he stood up, stripping himself down to nothing but his black undergarments.

"Good, now _I'm_ going to dry you off. All I need you to do is to stay standing."

Zhao Yun started the white fabric at the strangers head and began to dry him off from the top. He then went to his broad shoulder and down to his arms, but when he started working on his torso, the man clutched the side of his stomach as he winced harshly in pain.

"I'm sorry! Did I hurt you!" Zhao Yun cried out in worry. He inspected where his hands cover his torso, seeing blood seeping past his palm. Now that some of the blood had been wiped off his body, he could see the place where the man had been injured.

"That's not too bad. I think I can stitch this together, but I'm going to have to apply just a dose of fire to stop the bleeding," He assessed before easing the stranger back into the seat. "Keep the pressure on the wound, I'll be right back.

Zhao Yun made a beeline to his bathroom, rummaging through his cabinets for a box of matches, a thread, a suturing needle, an second absorbent towel, and a roll of bandages. He ran back to the fireplace once he found what he needed before kneeling down next to the stranger.

"Take your hand off the wound." He urged softly, pulling the towel from his bundle of tools. The wounded man complied, allowing Zhao Yun to clean the blood with gentle swipes.

After getting a clear view of the wound, Zhao Yun put the towel to the side before grabbing the box of matches, setting one alit with a swift stroke. "I'm going to apply just enough to stop the bleeding, so I don't damage anymore tissue."

Past the match's heated radiance, he noticed the strangers eying the flame with dread etched on his face. "Take my hand," Zhao Yun whispered, trying to comfort him. "This is going to sting."

The stranger closed his eyes as the flame neared the wound, nostrils flaring and his grip tightening dangerously. Zhao Yun noted the man's powerful, calloused hand and his skin washed over with a pained sweat, but he pushed on, slowly skimming the modest length of the wound until no more blood trickled out.

By the time he was done, the stranger was breathing profusely, trying to cope with searing pain on the already troublesome wound. Zhao Yun quickly put out the match when he figured he had cauterized the wound enough. "That's always the hardest part. The burning should numb the skin a bit, so you shouldn't feel too much once I start stitching."

Zhao Yun took a moment to grab the needle and a thread, putting all of his focus on tying the two thin objects.

"Stitches?" The stranger stuttered, his voice still strained from the pain from earlier. The utterance somewhat broke Zhao Yun's focus. The stranger seemed perplexed about it.

"Yes, so the wound closes up to prevent more bleeding." Zhao Yun explained as if the other man didn't know what a stitch was. He wasn't sure why his guest seemed so confused about it. "You won't be able to move around much, lest the stitch might tear and reopen the wound."

As Zhao Yun took the needle in hand and began to work on closing the wound, his guest suddenly took on an apprehensive posture.

"When my father and I worked on the farm, I would always have to treat injuries like this." Zhao Yun felt compelled to say, suddenly feeling the need to comfort the stranger. He wanted to ease in an air of openness to keep the long process of stitching up the wound from being too tense. "How did you get this wound, by the way?"

"I'm not sure. It might have been when I was traversing the rocks at the edge of the valley, but I hadn't felt it until just now." The stranger answered.

"Adrenaline can do that...it can numb you from the pain of your injuries until the danger passes." Zhao Yun deduced. Immediately afterwards, he took on a look of contemplation. "What were you doing out there anyway?"

"Running..." the stranger breathed, a troubled expression settling over him as he thought back to what brought him here. "Fighting for my life."

"Who were you running from?" Zhao Yun questioned, a tiny bit too interested in his stranger's circumstances.

"Too many people to count." He said vaguely, looking away from Zhao Yun as he did. "People who want me behind bars. Either that or dead. I had to fight them off as I ran. That's where all the other blood came from." The stranger gestured over himself as explained.

"You're a fugitive?" Zhao Yun gasped, thinking back to his previous unspoken assertion that this man was possibly a criminal. The notion that he was actually right about that was rather unsettling. Just who had let into his house?

"I suppose I am. But I'm not guilty" The stranger grumbled. His voice intensified as he insisted he was no criminal. "I was framed for a crime I did not commit, and now the governor has sent his men after me."

"Governor Dong Zhuo?"

"Yes." the stranger seethed, his voice dripping with hatred. Dong Zhuo, the governor of their province, was a rather loathed politician. Instead of governing and looking out for the common man like a governor should, Dong Zhuo exploited his power by partaking in his own pleasure at the people's expense. His gluttony and hunger for power and riches knew no bounds. Everyone knew of the governors selfish ways because he made no effort to hide it. In fact, he found no shame in making sure to remind the people that they were nothing more than "disposable peasants" in his eyes.

Like many others, Zhao Yun had found his share of difficult times under the governors unjust law.

"Back in my town there was a man named Lu Bu. He was a powerful and charismatic man, but he was more on the infamous side of the spectrum. I was his..." the man trailed, the uncertainty on his face telling him that he was sitting on some unspoken secret. "Because of my connections to him, I became a prime suspect when he was murdered."

The fugitive closed his eyes in pain as he uttered that last word. "The governor skipped the suspicions and went straight to the accusation. He put a bounty on my head, and sent his men after me. I had to run. It was the only way I could get to the man who really killed Lu Bu."

The stranger's hands began to tremble as he clutched them into angry fists. "Lu Bu and the governor had been at each other's throat for a long time. I know he has something to do with this. Lu Bu was a good man. No one knew him like I did, and I know he didn't deserve to die. Dong Zhuo will pay for this with every ounce of his being. I swear on Lu Bu's grave!"

"Whoa, whoa there tiger!" Zhao Yun exclaimed at the man's vengeful outburst, his focus being taken off the task of closing the wound "You can't seriously think you can challenge the governor and expect to win! Especially if you're going to accuse him of a crime you have no proof he committed!"

"And why not!?" the stranger snapped, "Dong Zhuo has done nothing but manipulate us, hold us to the ground and then piss on us without even the decency of calling it rain. I don't know how you're willing to put up with this, but killing Lu Bu was the last straw for me. I not going to stand for this tyranny anymore!"

The fugitive suddenly sprang to his feet, his anger spilling over and getting the best of him. "Dammit! I can't stay here. I need get out there and make that wretched carcass suffer for everything he's done!"

Zhao Yun watched in bewilderment as the man barged for the door, only to tumble to the floor at the halfway point, screaming and clutching his side in agony. Zhao Yun ran to his side in frantic haste.

"Mister, you can't move around like this. You'll tear the stitches and reopen your wound!"

"Ugh...fuck!" The fugitive hissed between his teeth. Zhao Yun struggled to haul the man on his feet lead him back to his seat.

"You're in no shape to go back out there, especially if you're going to do something this stupid. You need to calm down or you're going to get yourself killed."

The fugitive clutched the half-stitched-up wound as he heaved, trying to regain his breath. Zhao Yun stood back with cautious patience as the stranger's rage and agony began to taper off, slowly being replaced by a subdued solemness.

"If you're going to go on a suicide mission, the very least you could do is wait until this wound has healed." Zhao Yun scolded.

"You're right," the fugitive conceded hesitantly, "I'm sorry for scaring you."

Zhao Yun released some of the tension in his shoulders when he was sure the quieted man wouldn't move again before returning his attention to his injuries. "Now hold still, I need to finish up these stitches."

Zhao Yun was quiet as he finished patching up the other man's wounds. The fugitive's gaze drifted to the farmers face as it contorted in the utmost focus. He noticed how quiet his caretaker had become, most certainly out of fear of flustering up his emotions again. The slightest twinge of guilt sank in his gut as he realized this.

"My name's Zhang Liao..." the fugitive stuttered suddenly. Zhao Yun's progress stalled upon hearing the other man's utterance.

"Zhao Yun..." he replied, returning his gaze only briefly before refocusing on his work.

Zhang Liao felt compelled to ask Zhao Yun to give him shelter for the time being, but he had feeling that the farmer had already decided he wouldn't be stepping foot out of the house until he had made a full recovery. Not that he could blame him.

"I just want to say thank you for this hospitality...and I'm sorry for troubling you."

"It's okay. To be honest, I don't get a lot of company out here," Zhao Yun reflected distantly. Zhang Liao was slightly taken aback by this statement. Was he implying that he was grateful for the company of a wounded fugitive?

Before he could dwell on that thought any further, he realized Zhao Yun had finished his stitches.

"There," Zhao Yun concluded, already reaching for the roll of bandages, "Now stand up for me."

Zhang Liao complied with Zhao Yun's request, allowing him to apply a bandage to the wound. Zhao Yun pulled the strip from the side of his abdomen diagonally across his chest and over his shoulder before pulling it back down across his back and looping it back to his abdomen. He repeated this several times before he had several bandages secure around Zhang Liao's body.

Though his work was finished Zhao Yun's hand never pulled back. His hand rested over the bandage on his chest as he admired his work, feeling an inexplicable sense of satisfaction for having helped this man. Underneath the thin wrappings, he could feel the man's rough, hardened skin and muscles. The pronounced pulse of his heartbeat mesmerized him in a daze. He was reminded of his father's heartbeat just days before he passed away. It was erratic, weak and almost undetectable as it started to give out, a far cry from the strong, steady pulse of the man who stood before him now.

Zhao Yun pulled his hand back as he realized he had not broken the contact between himself and Zhang Liao as he became lost in his thoughts. His gaze drifted up to the man's face, expecting his reaction to be confused or disapproving. He was surprised to be met with an expression that was rather stoic, intensified by his metallic grey eyes. Yet it was still soft, not unwelcoming in the slightest, which made his expression perplexing to him while also making it hard for him to look away.

Now that the man's hair was dry, most of it had regained it short, slicked back and somewhat spiked form, allowing Zhao Yun to see his face more clearly. If there was a way to describe the man's facial appearance, he'd say everything about him was "sharp," from his pointed beard and strong jaw to his furrowed brow, narrow eyes and unconventionally shaped mustache. He was rather exotic...in a rugged, masculine way.

Zhao Yun tore his eyes away in manner much too frantic to go unnoticed. His face was suddenly flushed with an irritable heat. It was definitely only because of the surreal situation of having a wounded, muscular and rather imposing half naked man in his house. Definitely...

"The bandages should stay on overnight. If you need a bath, I wouldn't do it now. It would be best to wait until morning to give the wound some time to mold." Zhao Yun started to ramble before he realized something. "Oh, you must be hungry. I don't have much to eat at the moment, but I can make you something."

Zhang Liao threw his hand up in protest. "You've troubled yourself enough. That can wait until morning, I assure you."

Zhao Yun looked at Zhang Liao confused, then it occurred to the fugitive that Zhao Yun never outright said he could stay until morning.

"Is there a problem?" Zhang Liao stammered.

"Nothing." Zhao Yun exclaimed, shaking his head. "It's just, I figured after running so long you would be more inclined to eat something."

"You're a farmer, correct? If you say you don't have much to eat at the moment, then I do not wish to make things anymore difficult for you. I shouldn't be here in the first place. The last thing I'd want to do is take what little food you do have."

"I-I..." Zhao Yun stuttered, unsure how to tackle this surprising show of selflessness. "Well, if you insist...I guess there's nothing left to do but show you where you can sleep."

"You don't have to compensate for wanted man's convenience. I'll find a spot out here to sleep." Zhang Liao declined as Zhao Yun started towards the hallway.

Zhao Yun turned back to his guest with a disapproving smirk. "I live here alone, Zhang Liao. There's plenty of space here for a guest to spend the night. I've got a vacant room with a perfectly nice bed for you to sleep in. Come on, I'll show you."

As the farmer lead the other man through his home, Zhang Liao took a moment to take in his surroundings. "How long have you owned this place?"

"Technically, not long...but this farm has always been owned by the family, so I've lived here all my life. When my father died, I became the owner, being the oldest person who lives...well, the only person who lives here...HERE IT IS!"

Zhang Liao's vision snapped back in front of him at Zhao Yun's outburst, just in time to see him opening a door at the side of the hallway. He followed the farmer inside as he greeted him to the clean, undecorated guest room.

"This was actually my father's room. No one occupies it now so...make yourself at home."

"This was your fathers?" Zhang Liao asked with quiet astonishment. "Zhao Yun I couldn't possibly..."

"Yes, you can!" Zhao Yun asserted as he pushed the Zhang Liao back into the room, becoming weary of his guest turning down his hospitality. "There's no way in hell I'm letting you sleep in the fireplace when there's a perfectly good bed right here for you sleep in."

"I get that...but are sure you're alright with a fugitive sleeping in your father's bed?"

"Should I not be? It's a bed. It's not like I'm making you sleep in his coffin."

Zhang Liao had to chuckle at this. "I guess not."

Having this stranger make the humble sound of laughter...however subdued it was, he wasn't sure what it was about it that put him in a good mood, but it did nonetheless.

Zhang Liao sat himself down on the bedside as he settled himself in (as much as he could with literally nothing but the clothes on his back - which was barely anything). When he began to tiredly wipe at his brow, Zhao Yun took that as his queue to leave.

"You just get plenty of rest. I'll see you in morning...criminal."

"Same to you, farm boy," Zhang Liao shot back playfully.

Zhao Yun responded back with a whole-hearted grin before turning to take his leave, closing the door behind him. Having gotten out of earshot of his guest, he had time to his own thoughts for what seemed like the first time that night and _OH MY GOD, there's a wanted fugitive in my house!_

A slithering coldness eked through his veins as immediately a million different thoughts were racing through his head. This man he had never met had come to his home with law enforcement, government henchmen, bounty hunters and heaven knows who else hot on his tail. There was no way at least someone who was looking for Zhang Liao wasn't somewhere within the valley at that very moment.

The most chilling thought that came him was the notion that this man was wanted by Dong Zhuo himself. What if the governor found out that Zhao Yun was sheltering a wanted man? That would technically condemn him as a criminal under the law as well. Such a revelation would be devastating to his property values. The sanctity of a land passed down through generations of his family would be tarnished. The farm could be taken away from him completely. He wouldn't put it past a man such as Dong Zhuo to take that course of action without even so much as a moment of debate.

With his mind weighed down by the thoughts of an uncertain future, both for himself and this this mysterious fugitive, Zhao Yun headed back out to the fireplace only half consciously before putting out the fire and returning to his own room, fully expecting to get very little sleep before morning.


End file.
